Blue Eyes White Christmas!
by Macavity
Summary: [Updated 12.24.05] Last year, Pegasus threw the Christmas Bash of a lifetime. Now, it's someone else's turn! PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!
1. Pegsy's Christmas Bash

Disclaimer: Much to my dismay, I DIDN'T receive Yu-Gi-Oh for Christmas. So it's STILL not mine.

Yami: Oh, shut up. You got DDR Max 2.

Seto: Ungrateful child.

Me: But my feet hurt now!

Yami: Ha-ha, tough noogies on you.

Seto: It's your own fault anyway.

Author's Notes: Merry Christmas. You know who you are. I love you all and appreciate everybody who kept reading my stuff even after my script-format humor stories got deleted. I'm considering archiving them somewhere else...maybe Mediaminer...or maybe on an independent website. Any thoughts? Let me know somehow. And regarding the story...it's a Christmas reunion! Let the havoc ensue!

That said, let's begin the tale of...

**-----------------**

**Yu-Gi-Oh!**

**Blue Eyes White Christmas**

**-----------------**

"Is everything ready, Croquet?!" Maximillion Pegasus yelled as he scurried around the halls of his castle at Duelist Kingdom, fussing over each Christmas decoration as he passed it. "Everything must be absolutely perfect for when our guests arrive!"

"Yes, Master Pegasus," Croquet answered flatly. "That's the sixteenth time you've asked me that, sir, and the answer hasn't changed."

"Don't you get smart with me, young man," Pegasus retorted, wagging his finger in his servant's face. "This is my party and it _will_ be a success!"

Croquet sighed. "Of course, sir. I'll go set out the win—" He cut off abruptly, seeing Pegasus's pointed glare. "Uh...I mean, the _fruit juice_ spritzers."

"Excellent."

As the grumbling man left, Pegasus sat down in his overstuffed red velvet chair and smiled, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the armrest. Everything was going according to plan.

**Meanwhile...**

"Yugi! Yugi, where are you?"

"I'm in my bedroom, Grandpa!"

"Come out here, Yugi!"

"What is it, Grandpa?" Light footsteps thudded towards the door.

"Something came in the mail for you. It's a videotape...from Maximillion Pegasus."

The bedroom door was thrown open and a very angry-looking, four-foot tall bundle of tri-colored fury burst forth. "Aw, man, not _AGAIN_! That's the third time this week!"

**Also Meanwhile...**

"Big Brother! Big Brother!"

"In a minute, Mokuba. I'm watching the NFL finals on a live-feed from the KaibaCorp satellite."

Mokuba Kaiba paused in the doorway to his brother's office, blinking in surprise. "I didn't know you liked football..."

"Football? Who's watching football? I said the NFL."

"Isn't that the National—"

"—Forensics League? Yes. Yes it is." Seto Kaiba smiled as he sipped his coffee, watching a redheaded contestant compete on the viewscreen.

"Oh. I see. Well, this package came for you in the mail."

"Is it a bomb?"

"No."

"Is it a missile?"

"No."

"Is it some form of explosive apparatus?"

"No."

"...Is it a portable garbage disposal?"

"I don't think so. Looks like a videotape and an invitation to a Christmas party."

"Another society thing? Who's throwing it this time?"

"...Maximillion Pegasus."

Coffee sprayed in a brilliant arc over the multi-million dollar viewscreen as Seto Kaiba performed a class-one spit take.

**Still Meanwhile...**

"ISHIZU!"

The black-haired woman barely looked up in time to see a blonde streak rush through the hallway outside her office. "Malik, stop running in here! You'll break something!"

There was the sound of a person skidding to a stop, the familiar _crash-tinkle_! of a priceless Ming vase shattering into a thousand pieces, then quick footsteps thumping back until Malik Ishtar stood in the doorway, strikingly clad in a violet silk shirt...and a pair of bunny rabbit boxers.

Violet eyes flamed in rage. "_Where_ are my pants?!"

"_Why_ do you need to know?" Ishizu replied smoothly.

"I have to _go_! There's a Christmas party and I'm going to be late!"

"I'm not the lord and master of your pants. Did you try in the laundry?"

"They're not _THERE_!" Malik wailed, throwing an arm over his eyes and leaning dramatically against the door. "Look, I know you've got them! Where are they?!"

Ishizu smirked to herself. "Consider this your punishment for sneaking out with Bakura last Friday."

"_NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_!"

**And Yes, Still Meanwhile...**

"What the—Bakura, _what_ are you doing to my _kitchen_?!"

The white-haired Yami turned around and smiled innocently at his fuming light. "Nothing?"

"Wrong answer. Out with it!"

"Fine, fine. I'm baking cookies."

"With _vodka_?!" Ryou barked, gesturing to the opened bottle sitting on the counter.

"Well...they're not for me."

"Let me guess. They're for some Christmas party you're planning on crashing, right?"

Bakura blinked in surprise. "How did you know?"

"You pulled this same thing on New Year's...and Easter...and Guy Fawkes Day..."

"Okay, okay, fine. You got me. Now go away and let me—" Bakura trailed off as the phone rang. With a glance at Ryou, which was replied with a shrug, he walked over and answered the phone. "Yo. You got Baku. Who this is?"

There was a long pause, then: "Well...okay. Sure. See you in a few."

Ryou tilted his head as Bakura hung up the phone, dazed. "Who was it?"

"Malik..." the Yami replied slowly.

"What did he want?"

"He was screaming something about _pants_..."

**And Still, Still, STILL Meanwhile...**

Duke Devlin, teen gamer extraordinaire, was bored.

His store was closed. All his friends were spending Christmas somewhere else. His family had gone to Hawaii and left him behind, offering no excuse except for pointing out his deathly allergy to pineapples. Never mind that the smell caused him to have a violent reaction if he came within fifty feet of one—he still could've gone!

But they'd left him behind, and so now Duke was bored.

Idly, he decided to go outside and check his mail. Maybe there would be a postcard, or perhaps a shrink-wrapped hula girl with a thing for green-eyed business owners. Or, heck, while he was dreaming, maybe there'd even be a letter from his idol, Maximillion Pegasus.

He flipped open the front of the box, surprised to see a small brown package inside. Whoever could this be from? With a shrug, he removed it from the mailbox and turned it over, looking for a return address.

And when he found it, he nearly dropped the precious package in the snow.

The return address said "Maximillion Pegasus"...

**Finally, Back To Pegasus!**

"Tum tee tumm..." Pegasus sang softly, arranging the last of the presents under the elegant evergreen tree in his castle's main ballroom. "So many lovely little things for my guests. I wonder when they'll get here..."

There was a long moment of dead silence.

"I _SAID_, I _WONDER_ when they'll _GET_ here!"

As if on cue, Croquet rushed into the ballroom. "Master Pegasus, the first of the guests has arrived."

"Oooh, goody! Is it Kaiba-boy?"

"Uh...no, sir."

"Well, poo. ...Yugi-boy?"

"I'm sorry, sir."

"...Joey-boy...?"

Croquet shook his head silently.

"Well, who then?" Pegasus demanded, annoyed.

"It sounded like Seto Kaiba over the intercom, sir, but when I opened the door it was just somebody calling himself Brock. Shall I let him in?"

"Absolutely not! Now go get ready for the _real_ guests!"

A pained sigh came from Croquet's direction as he walked out the door. "Yes, sir."

A few minutes later, a loud explosion echoed through the walls of the castle. Pegasus looked up in surprise, a stack of Santa hats nearly falling from his fingers at the noise. It sounded like the entire _castle_ was coming down around them...

Oh, well. At least he knew who had arrived.

"Three...two...one..." he muttered, just as the ballroom door exploded in a similar blaze of glory.

Two figures burst through the new charred opening, the flames licking at their bodies as they moved. Through the cloud of smoke, Pegasus could barely make them out, much less recognize them. But he didn't need to _see_ them to recognize who these new guests were—no, no. The explosions had been quite sufficient. And, as if to further confirm his guess, a sharp voice cut through the smog in the room.

"_Pegasus_!"

The white-haired man looked up, customary smirk in place. "Kaiba-boy! And Mini-Kaiba! How wonderful to see you both!"

Seto Kaiba stormed over, grabbing Pegasus by his frilly lace collar and nearly lifting him off the floor. "How _dare_ you invite me to some pointless gathering, as if we were _friends_!"

Pegasus paused a moment, still smiling. "Yet for all its idiocy...you still showed up."

There was a long, long pause.

"Oh, I see. Mokuba made you come, right?"

"I'm missing the NFL championship round for this. I hope you're happy, old man," Seto grumbled at last, putting him back down.

He narrowly escaped reprimand from Mokuba, as the younger boy had become fascinated with the dessert table and had promptly left Seto and Pegasus in the dust.

"Well, anyway, you're here. And the others should be showing up any—"

Another explosion boomed throughout the ballroom, and a second gaping hole appeared next to Kaiba's. This one was surrounded in crackling Shadow magic and completely defied any attempt to identify who had made it. A moment later, a pair of red eyes glowed from within the overwhelming blackness.

"_Pegasus!_"

"Yugi-boy!" Pegasus cheered, throwing his hands in the air. "What a lovely entrance! See, that's the difference between you and Kaiba-boy; it's all about style." He turned and elbowed Seto in the ribs. "You really should put more pride in your work."

"Oh, shut up," Seto snapped, walking to the refreshments table and snatching up a tree-shaped cookie.

Yami and Yugi Mutou strode forth from the crackling remains of what once was a wall, coming to a pause in front of Pegasus.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Yami demanded, his eyes glowing with an unearthly light.

His reply was a Santa hat being crammed over his spiky hair and a cookie being shoved in his mouth. "Merry Christmas!" Pegasus replied happily. "It's a party, Yami-boy."

"Don't call me that."

"Oh, come now, lighten up. Can I get any of you three something to drink? Coffee, punch, water?"

Yugi pondered this a moment. "Water would be okay."

"Water," Yami seconded instantly.

"What _kind_ of water?" Seto inquired, smirking wickedly.

"Evian," Pegasus answered with a smile.

"...I'll take a coffee."

Narrowing his eyes at Seto, Pegasus promptly set about meeting his guests' requests. But as he was delivering two bottles of water to Yami and Yugi, rhythmic pounding began to echo through the room.

"What is this, a construction site? Sounds like someone's taking a sledgehammer to my wall..." the white-haired man muttered.

Yugi blinked. "Oh, that's Joey and Tristan. They wanted to make their own hole to enter through, too."

"Of course," Pegasus replied, rolling his eyes. "Why didn't I realize that? It makes perfect sense."

"Tea's out there too," Yami added, looking a little pale. "You haven't strung up any mistletoe around here, have you?"

"No, no, of course not. The only place you have to watch out for is right over Kaiba-boy's head." He smirked, glancing over at the CEO.

"ACK!"

**Ten Minutes Later...**

"We're here!" Joey crowed, making his way through the newly bashed hole in Pegasus's now-crumbling ballroom wall. "Who's got food?"

"Of course, the mutt asks about his kibble first," Seto murmured, eating yet another tree-shaped cookie.

"You're one to talk, Kaiba. What is that, your tenth cookie in the past five minutes?"

"Sixteenth. Learn to count."

"Speaking of food, anybody got a cheeseburger?" Tristan inquired, poking his head through the hole. "For some reason I just really want a cheeseburger..."

"See? _See_? I knew the power of friendship would get us through that wall!" Tea cheered, racing through and making a beeline for Yami. "We're here, Yami!"

"Joy and rapture," the pharaoh replied dryly, ducking behind Yugi. "Look, Yugi, it's your...friend. You two should get better acquainted. Like, _right now_."

"Uh...I mean, right!" Yugi said after a moment. "Hi, Tea!"

Looking extremely dejected, the brunette girl stayed to chat with her friend, casting longing glances towards Yami as he retreated near Seto.

"It's like she's got a tracking device planted on me!" Yami whispered, gnawing on a snowman cookie to disguise his conversation with Seto. "I mean it, she's everywhere!"

"Hmm. Hang on a sec and I'll see what I can do about that," Seto replied, downing his thirty-sixth tree-shaped cookie of the night. Much to Yami's amazement, the billionaire reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. "This'll do the trick."

"What is it?"

"It generates an electromagnetic pulse. It'll knock out electricity in anything within a radius of a hundred feet."

Yami blinked. "Don't you think that's a little...risky?"

"Granted, I suppose a hundred feet is a little dangerous. Two hundred would be better. Possibly even two fifty."

"Rrrrrrrrright. So, what's that for, anyway?"

Smoothly ignoring the question, Seto flipped the switch on. Instantly, the Christmas tree lights began to flicker wildly, as did the rest of the lighting in the castle. Every appliance in the kitchen sputtered and immediately died, much to the dismay of Croquet and his servants. Cell phones began to screech and whoop, making every guest in the ballroom cover their ears in agony.

Amidst all this chaos, Seto calmly reached out and picked a charred bit of machinery off of Yami's belt. "There."

Groaning, Yami reached over and switched off the EMP. "You actually found a tracer?"

"Correction: the remains of what once _was_ a tracer," Seto amended. "Mission complete."

Yami stared oddly at him for a long moment. "You know, you sounded just like Heero Yuy when you said that..."

"Yeah, it's a gift. Eat your cookie, pharaoh."

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the walls of the ballroom, leaving a burning, charred hole next to the three already there. Near-drunken cackling echoed as two white-haired figures stepped through the door, arguing amidst the wreckage.

"I can't believe you actually _brought_ the Molotov cocktails!"

"Technically, it wasn't a Molotov cocktail. It was a bottle of one hundred proof whiskey with a six-inch rag fuse."

"Like being politically correct matters in a situation like this! You just _destroyed_ part of Pegasus's _castle_!"

"Serves the old coot right. He didn't even bother to invite us."

Ryou Bakura turned as red as Yami's hat. "You mean we're _crashing_, too?!"

Yami Bakura snickered, twirling a lock of hair around his fingers. "Is there any other way to go?"

"BAKURA!"

"Hey, where'd Malik go? He was right behind us."

"I don't know. Hey, there's Yugi."

The two boys stepped into the room, nodding to all the guests as they began to mingle through the crowd. Some were happier to see them than others, but Pegasus decided to just go with it. The party was already near chaos anyway, and they _were_ friends. ...Sorta.

Malik Ishtar poked his head through the fourth gaping hole, his face pink. "Um, Bakura? They...don't fit quite right."

"Oh, just wear them, you big baby."

With a sigh, the blonde stepped into the room, sporting his silk shirt and a pair of shimmering black pants that ballooned around his legs, almost giving the appearance that he was wearing a skirt. Bits of silver flashed around the seams as he walked, holding the waist in one hand to keep it from falling.

"Bakura, I've never seen those pants before...where'd you get them?" Ryou asked, staring at the display.

The thief shrugged at his light. "Made them. None of mine fit him, so we used your sheets and just pinned them on. Pretty good, huh?"

"You used my _sheets_?!"

"Oh, like anyone's ever going to know. Hush."

Just then, Croquet stepped through the gaping hole that once was a door. "Master Pegasus...Mr. Devlin has arrived."

Duke rushed forward, bedecked in red and green, and offered a stack of presents to his idol. "I brought a little something for you, Mr. Pegasus!"

"Um...thanks," Pegasus replied slowly. "You...didn't have to. Really. I had it under control."

"That's why there's four giant holes in his wall," Seto stage-whispered to Yami, eating another cookie as he did so.

"My entrance was better than yours, though," Yami whispered back.

"You weren't even there. Shut up."

Duke blinked, then smirked slightly. "So, uh, when are you two planning to kiss?"

Two sets of startled eyes whipped his way. "What?!"

"Well, y'know, you're under the mistletoe..." he continued, pointing to the green sprig just above Seto's head.

"ACK!"

**Later...**

"Everybody form a line!" Pegasus called, taking up a position next to the stack of presents under the tree.

There was much grumbling, and quite a bit of chatter, but everyone eventually formed a line in front of him. On his way, Seto snagged another six tree-cookies to eat before taking up his position at the end of the line.

Duke stepped forward first. "What's the line for?"

"Presents, of course," Pegasus replied. "For you, a new set of dice carved out of ivory. From India."

"Everything's from India nowadays," came the comment from the back of the line.

Pegasus shot him a dirty look, then continued, "In this set is a six-sided die, a ten-sided die, a seventeen-sided die, and a marble."

"What's the marble for?"

"It's an infinite-sided die."

"WOW! Thanks, Mr. Pegasus!"

"Yes, yes, of course. Next."

Joey stepped forward. "You weren't expecting me, but I, uh, still get a present, right?"

Pegasus shrugged. "I had Croquet scrounge up some extras for the stragglers. For you, Joey-boy, a cereal-size box of almond crush pocky."

"Woo! My favorite kind!" Joey cheered, accepting the box.

"And also the only kind that Pegsy doesn't like. No wonder he's giving it to you." Seto munched on a cookie, smirking at his own kibitzing.

"Quiet back there! Next, please."

Tristan stepped up, smiling a little. "Do I get a present?"

"We ordered you a cheeseburger."

"YESSSSSSSSS!"

One by one, Pegasus cycled through his guests. For Malik, there was a new pair of pants in his size; for Tea, cross-country trainers so she could better pursue Yami. Bakura was delighted to receive a bottle of wine, and to Ryou's astonishment, he received a new set of sheets.

Mokuba was thrilled to get six packs of first-edition Duel Monsters cards, and for Yugi there was a lovely package containing a videotape and a new deck holder. After Pegasus received an angry glare from the aforementioned champion duelist, he hastily explained that the tape was merely a joke.

For Yami, there was a book entitled "103 Fun and Practical Uses for Your Millennium Item", co-written by Pegasus and Shadi.

And finally, Pegasus handed Seto a small wrapped envelope with a big red bow on it.

"What's this?" Seto demanded, sticking his last cookie between his teeth and unwrapping it. "Some kind of trick?"

"Oh, no, nothing of the sort. Just a little memento between friends."

Seto's eyes widened as he saw the paper in his hands. "This is a record of a business transaction...between Industrial Illusions and KaibaCorp?!"

"Oh, yes. I decided to give you back the fifty-first percent of your company's stock that I owned. It was fun while it lasted, but I don't really need it."

The cookie fell from Seto's mouth. "You—you owned fifty-one percent of my company?!"

Pegasus shrugged. "I got bored this morning and needed a present for you. You really should be more observant of your stocks, even while you're watching football, you know."

"It was the _National Forensics League_."

"Of course it was," Pegasus cooed, patting him on the head.

Seto snarled, turning around in a whirl of trench coat. "We're leaving, Mokuba!"

"But I don't want to!"

"Too bad! Get your stuff!"

Mokuba smiled a little. "I left my cards over by the refreshments table. Can you get them for me?"

"Whatever. Just hurry." Seto stalked over to the table, his eyes widening when he realized the cards were nowhere to be found. "What the...?"

"Oooh, Kaiba, you really _DO_ like it under the mistletoe, don't you?" Pegasus called with a triumphant smirk.

And for the last time, the castle echoed with inhuman racket.

"_ACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_"

-----------------

Merry Christmas, everybody!

Yami: I miss script format.

Seto: It DOES get rid of all the needless typing of scenery, yes.

Yami: Hey, do you have any more of those cookies?

Seto: clutching briefcase It's mine, I tell you! MINE! NOT YOURS! YOU CAN'T HAVE MY TREE COOKIES!

Yami: Yeah...why DID you only take the tree cookies?

Seto: They're Pegasus's favorite.

Yami: Ah.

Well, that does it for the yearly Christmas special! My first attempt at humor that's not in script format...I think it turned out all right, anyway. Be sure to tell me your opinion in a review! And in light of all the Christmas cheer, Joey the Flame Swordsman and Flamina, the angel minion of fire, are standing by next to the Yule log to eradicate any nasty reviews. And if you'd like to give one of the characters a present, tell me in a review and I might just write a sequel. That said...PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!


	2. Seto Takes His Turn

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh, as always, does not belong to me. It, like all the other series that may make cameos within this piece of fiction, is the property of its respective owners, and as such, I claim no rights to the characters. The writing, however, is my own, and I do claim rights to that.

Author's Notes: A present for Lady Jia, as always. Merry Christmas, m'dear, and may you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

-----**  
Yu-Gi-Oh!  
Blue Eyes White Christmas 2  
aka  
Revenge of the Seto  
**-----

Maximillion Pegasus…was happy.

Very happy, in fact.

Everything was going absolutely beautifully: his company was booming with business, he was developing an enormous fan-base of impersonators, and best of all, it was almost Christmas! The usual preparations were, of course, being handled by Croquet—addressing all the invitations, working on decorations, and the like—and now it was finally time to personally record each videotape invitation.

He'd decided he would record Kaiba's invitation first this year, and this time ensure that he gave the starting time of the party as being an hour later than it really was. That way, when Kaiba tried to arrive early and spoil his plans, he would actually be right on time. Oh, the fun of manipulating people's lives!

Pegasus rubbed his hands together, picking up a glass of nonalcoholic fruit juice before proceeding into his office and taking a seat in his overstuffed business chair. Perfect. Everything was going exactly as planned.

…And then he saw the small, pale blue envelope resting right in the middle of the neat piles of paperwork on his desk.

Pegasus frowned. There were no mentions of small blue envelopes in his master scheme. What could such an envelope be doing on his desk, interrupting all of his plans? How did it get here? Had the Pastel Mafia finally tracked him down?

Inwardly, Pegasus made a mental note to have Croquet find out whether or not there really was such a thing as the Pastel Mafia, and if so, exactly what grievance they had with primary colors.

What horrors awaited him by opening this small, pale blue envelope resting so mockingly in the center of his desk? Perhaps it was laced with poison…or filled with toxic gas…or even—horror upon horrors—filled with falsified records of unpaid taxes!

At this terrible thought, Pegasus paused a moment in his musings and said a silent word of prayer to Al Capone, patron saint of well-dressed gentlemen hunted by the IRS, and may he protect the businessmen of the world from ever suffering such a fate.

The envelope remained on his desk.

Oh, of course, he _could_ call Croquet and inquire as to how such a envelope—a pale blue envelope, no less—had gotten onto his desk in the first place, but he had just given Croquet the very difficult task of dusting out the bottomless pit beneath his duel arena, and it seemed very ungrateful to call him all the way back just to have him perform so mundane a task as opening a pale blue envelope. It _was_ the Christmas season, after all.

Well. There was only one thing to be done, then.

Maximillion Pegasus rose from his chair, fixed the small blue envelope with his most defiant glare, and then turned and strode purposefully to the bathroom.

When he returned, the envelope was still sitting on his desk. Perfectly harmless…or so it _wanted_ him to think!

That thought made Pegasus stop a moment. Now the envelope was developing its own personality traits? Well, he decided, if an envelope had personality traits, then that therefore made it a person. And if the envelope was a person, it was therefore inferior to Maximillion Pegasus. And _therefore_, being inferior, it was no threat whatsoever.

Gleeful at the victory over the peon that was that pale blue envelope, he snatched it up and slit it open with his favorite Toon Bickuribox letter opener, smiling broadly. He was _still_ the ultimate game master.

Unfortunately—or fortunately, as the case may have been—no poison dust or toxic gas emerged from the torn blue envelope. Instead, a pretty invitation embossed with a silver border tumbled out and landed on his desk. Frowning, Pegasus put down his adversary the envelope and picked up this new challenge to his authority, fully prepared to face whatever terrible schemes it may reveal.

The front of the invitation was midnight blue and decorated with silver stars, beneath which lay rolling hills of white and a prettily decorated Christmas tree in the center of it all. Such elegance! This could mean nothing but trouble.

Drawing a deep breath, Pegasus steeled his nerves and opened the card, his eyes flickering over the stylish writing within.

There was silence all through the castle for a long, long moment.

Having just climbed his safety rope for over an hour, Croquet was roughly a foot away from the top of the bottomless pit when Pegasus screamed. Startled, his grip nearly faltered and plunged him all the way back to where he started, but Croquet hadn't lived to be sixty years old and still working in Pegasus's castle without developing fast reflexes and nerves of steel. Quick as a wink, he shoved off from the sleek metal walls of the pit and swung himself up in a wide arc, coming to rest on the surface floor a few feet away from the pit a moment later.

Yanking off the safety harness, he sprinted to his employer's office, ready for whatever horror might await him there. With Pegasus, one just never knew…

But when he arrived, all he saw was Master Pegasus, holding a pretty blue card at arm's length and looking like he was about to burst. Stifling a smile, Croquet momentarily entertained the thought of the man turning green and going on a rampage throughout the castle…until he realized that, should such a thing happen, _he_ would probably get stuck cleaning it up. With that in mind, he decided it was in everyone's best interest to quell his master's anger as fast as he could.

"What is it, sir?" he asked, stepping forward.

Pegasus turned, his eyes wide and full of hatred. "Do you know what he's _done_!"

"Who, sir?"

"Kaiba-boy!" Pegasus spat, hurling the invitation at Croquet, who caught it effortlessly and opened it up to skim the contents. "How _dare_ he! I'll get him for this! I _will_ have my revenge!"

Croquet blinked behind his sunglasses. "He's…invited you to a Christmas party, sir."

"Not just any party, Croquet. A Christmas party _on the same day as mine_!"

-----

At about the same time Pegasus was letting loose his unholy screech of rage, Seto Kaiba leaned back in his chair and allowed himself a look of smug satisfaction. Everything was going perfectly, and this year it would be _Pegasus_ suffering the humiliation of attending his business rival's Christmas party, and not the other way around.

After a long, long moment of silence and superiority, Seto decided his most recent pursuits warranted the ultimate in victory celebration. He promptly locked the doors, shut all the windows, and dimmed the lights in the room—no one could ever lay eyes upon what was his most closely guarded success ritual. There must be complete secrecy. Then, and only then, could the ritual commence.

A single flick of a switch, and the stereo blared to life.

The victory music lasted exactly ninety-seven seconds before jarring to a grinding halt. Momentarily shaken, Seto permitted himself to open one eye and glance toward the offending stereo, determined to ascertain the problem as quickly and efficiently as he could.

One look was all it took; shattered plastic, sparking wires, and a neat little hole where the stop button used to be.

Seto scowled a bit, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair once again. He knew the culprit, of course. After all, nobody could've gotten around his security systems, kept himself concealed from all of the sensors inside the office, _and_ hit a target the size of a dime, all without being heard.

"Tristan, how many times have I told you that you _can't_ stop the rock?"

"Hate to break it to you, but I think I just did. And that's Agent Taylor to you."

"…Well, fine. But "you aren't supposed to stop the rock" doesn't sound very good in the context of the song, you know?" the CEO amended.

There was a nearly inaudible thump as black leather boots landed on the plush carpet, and after a minute the room was bathed in an eerie greenish glow. There had been no indication of movement, and barely any noise. He was good…_very_ good.

Seto didn't bother turning around. "Take off those stupid goggles, would you? I'm turning the lights back on."

"Stupid goggles? I'm hurt."

"No, _hurt _happens when I turn on the lights and you blind yourself. Take them off."

Tristan Taylor shrugged, then removed his night vision goggles and moved to stand next to Seto's chair as the lights came back on. "You totally need to get better security. I could've killed you six ways to Sunday and you didn't even know I was there."

"Six ways to Sunday? I beg to differ. You're not even capable of five ways to Friday."

"Nobody kills people on Friday."

"Oh? What about—"

"He doesn't count!"

Seto grinned. "Sure. So how go the plans for the party?"

"Oh, no big deal. Leapfrogging between dimensions is a lot easier than most people would think. Everybody's excited for the shindig, and I only had to kill two caterers before I found one who could handle the order we'll need to have filled."

"Excellent. We've got an RSVP from all the important guests, then?"

"Some voiced a little concern about getting here, but yes, we've got a full list. Not a single refusal."

Seto laughed at that, leaning back in his chair. "Refuse? _My_ party? Please. I put one of the tickets up for sale on E-bay, just as a gag, and it's already selling for over ten thousand dollars. No one in the world would pass up this chance."

"Wait a minute," Tristan interrupted. "You mean you're actually going to let the highest bidder in some online auction attend your party? Are you flipping serious?"

"Don't be stupid. I've got Mokuba on his laptop counting down the minutes until the end of the auction. With two seconds left to go, he's going to snipe the highest bidder with one of my dummy accounts."

"You're cruel."

"Tis the season to be jolly, Tristan."

"Let's see, what else do I need to report? The C-5 Corridor is working just fine. That's a useful little invention, there. Gets you anywhere you need to go, provided you can put in the proper space-time coordinates."

The CEO shrugged. "We developed that technology a while back on commission from ACME. Never really thought it would come in handy…until now."

"A while back?" Tristan blinked. "This is the first time I've heard of it. How'd you manage to keep it under wraps?"

"Oh, you know. I hid the expenses under KaibaCorp's cleaning budget."

"You're telling me that you filed an innovation that cost millions of dollars in research and construction in with mops and liquid detergent, and _no one noticed_!"

"Why would they?" Seto replied innocently. "No one really looks at the cleaning budget anyway."

"Don't you think your board of directors and auditors would notice that the finances going towards your cleaning budget had, um, spiked a little bit?"

"Oh, them." The CEO grinned. "They asked about it once. I told them the budget went up to cover the expense of hiring cleaning companies who didn't mind dealing with the bodies of my _previous_ crack team of auditors."

"Bet they didn't ask about it again after that one."

"Bet you're right. So, how was the trip, anyway? I've never gone through the Corridor myself."

"Walking through there kind of reminds me of the Mysterious Void Betwixt Worlds. Very peaceful. Limitless opportunities. …Cheeseburgers."

"What was that last one?"

"…Limitless opportunities?"

"…Yeah. Anyway. We've got the hall, which is good. And you said you found a caterer, which is very good. Oh, that reminds me; the refreshments are going to be exactly to specifications?"

Tristan nodded. "The instructions given were very clear. All cookies will be tree-shaped and exactly six inches in length, and all drink glasses will hold exactly eight ounces."

"And I trust you'll have someone check these specifications when the delivery is made?"

"Sure, no worries. I'll make a list. …And have them check it twi—"

"_Good_!" Seto interrupted, anxious to cut Tristan off before he finished the bad pun. "Now then, I'll put the final preparations into motion. On the day of the event, you'll be responsible for monitoring the Corridor and watching the guest list, understood?"

"No worries, chief. I'm on it."

"Excellent. Oh, and make sure that Pegasus gets the seat of honor, will you? I _do_ so want to make sure he has a good time."

Tristan shook his head, laughing as an evil smile flickered across Seto's normally stoic features. "You're a terrible person, boss."

"Hey, _I_ intend to have a Christmas that is both holly and jolly. And I intend to make sure Stuck-Up McFruitJuice gets a front-row seat to see it."

-----

Elsewhere, the rest of the gang had gathered at the Game Shop to compare notes and discuss the party that the news media was now terming as "the biggest event of the millennium".

"So let's see here," Yugi Mutou mumbled, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on the assortment of small blue envelopes in front of him. "I got a ticket. Yami got a ticket. Ryou and Yami Bakura got tickets. Malik and Ishizu got tickets. Joey—"

"Didn't get a ticket, but is bidding for the one up for sale on E-bay," the blonde replied smugly.

Tea Gardiner blinked. "Isn't that selling for something like forty thousand dollars right now?"

"Forty thousand dollars and one cent. I found a penny outside the Game Shop."

"Joey!" Yugi blurted. "You don't _have_ forty thousand dollars!"

"Calm down, Yuge," Joey Wheeler replied with a confident smile. "I figured out the way Kaiba's working this. It doesn't matter how much gets bid, 'cause he's just gonna have Mokuba snipe the winning bidder with two seconds left to go, and see how much the ticket _would've_ gone for. So all I'm doing is messing with his head."

"But…then you still don't have a ticket to the party," Ryou Bakura pointed out.

"Don't need one. I'm crashing."

"Easier said than done. I can understand why _Joey_ didn't get invited to Kaiba's party, but why didn't _I_ get a ticket?" Tea demanded, folding her arms. "What have I ever done to Kaiba, anyway?"

There was a long silence, and it was Yugi who finally replied, meekly, "Uh…no comment?"

At that exact moment, the doorbell chimed, and a second later Mokuba Kaiba poked his head in the door. "Anybody here?" he called, glancing around the shop.

"Hi, Mokuba!" Yugi cheered, ducking out from Tea's frustrated glare and running over to greet the smaller boy. "What brings you here today?"

"Oh, not much. I wanted to stop by and say hello, wish you a merry Christmas. Oh, and Seto wanted me to check and make sure everybody got their tickets okay, and something about subtly taunting the people who didn't get tickets. But that's more his style than mine." Mokuba grinned. "His antihero is showing."

"Antihero?" Joey asked, blinking.

"Hey, Mokuba, while you're here…" Tea began, sidling over to the black-haired boy. "We all know why Joey didn't get a ticket. But I'm sure mine got lost in the mail or something, right? It's on its way, isn't it?"

"Nope."

"…What do you mean, 'nope'?"

"No, your ticket isn't lost in the mail. I'm positive."

Tea frowned. "How can you be sure of that?"

"Easy. I know it's not lost in the mail because we didn't send you a ticket in the first place."

"_What_!"

"Yeah, you don't get one. Sorry."

"Oh, I'm going to _kill_ that brother of yours when I—!" the brunette girl exclaimed, her eyes flashing with anger.

"Actually," Mokuba interrupted, "it was my idea to leave you off the guest list, not his."

"But—but why! Why would you do such a terrible thing! I thought I was your _friend_, Mokuba! Friendship should—"

"Hey, nothing personal," the boy said with a shrug, cutting her off mid-sentence. "I decided it wouldn't be good to give the Azureshippers any ideas, that's all."

Now it was Yugi's turn to blink. "Azure…shippers?"

But Mokuba was already on his way out the door. "Well, I hate to leave so soon, but I'm on a tight deadline, so I've got to be going. Seto will be glad to hear that everybody got their tickets. Remember, dress is formal, and don't be late! Bye, guys! Snipe you later, Joey!"

The door swung shut, making the bell chime once again. For a minute, there was perfect silence. It took everyone in the store just to keep Tea from chasing Mokuba down the street, and another twenty minutes to get her settled down.

As usual, no one noticed that Tristan was conspicuously absent.

-----

At long last, the day of the party arrived, and things at the Kaiba mansion were extremely tense all day. There were over a dozen new members on the staff, hired especially to help put things together for the party, and most of them hadn't quite adjusted to the idea that when Seto Kaiba yelled that their work was imperfect and therefore to go commit ritual suicide because they'd shamed their ancestors back a thousand generations, he didn't _really_ mean to drop everything and leave, but rather simply to adjust the tablecloth in question another inch so the sides were more even. Naturally, such a concept took some getting used to.

Eventually, though, Seto got tired of harassing the kitchen staff and went upstairs to plan what to wear for the party. He made it as far as the sixth step before a disembodied voice groaned, "Braaaaaaaaaains…!"

It was only years and years of honing his reflexes that saved Seto from falling down the stairs. "Tristan!" he yelled, unable to see the agent but still knowing he was around somewhere.

A minute later, Tristan dropped from the ceiling, laughing as he landed in front of the blue-eyed CEO. "Oh, _man_, you should have seen your face!"

"I hate you."

"Tis the season. Hey, hadn't you better go get dressed up? The guests will be arriving any minute now, and I'm off to go make sure they make it through the Corridor okay."

"I was on my way to do that when _you_ decided to play live-action Resident Evil."

"What're you going to wear?"

"I'm not sure, actually. It's kind of a tricky decision. I was thinking either the Magnum or the Beretta, personally."

Tristan thought a minute. "It's formal, right?"

"The Beretta it is, then."

"Right-o, Chief. See you at the party." And with that, Tristan tossed a smoke bomb at Seto's feet and disappeared from sight.

When the smoke finally cleared, Seto found himself alone on the stairs. Grumbling, he climbed the rest of the way to the top, muttering under his breath about uppity secret agents ruining the carpet and how he never should have paid for certain people to go through the spy academy in the first place.

-----

Elsewhere, Joey was putting the finishing touches on his plan for the evening. A limousine had just arrived to pick up Yugi and the others, and Yami had successfully drugged Tea up with enough tranquilizers to keep her asleep until well into the new year, so that wouldn't be a problem either. Yugi had hesitated before climbing into the limo, of course, but Joey had quickly assured him that it was all right and he would be sure to see them all at the party.

Once the limo was completely out of sight, he counted to thirty, then donned a heavy trench coat over his formal attire and shouldered his heavy-duty shovel. If he took a shortcut through the abandoned construction site, he could be at the Kaiba Banquet Hall in just under a half-hour. Then it was a simple matter of tunneling under the wall and bingo! He was in.

A vague thought nagged at him, and for a minute he wondered if taking that shortcut was such a good idea after all. But he quickly dismissed that notion; after all, people cut through the construction site all the time, and nothing bad ever happened to _them_. Besides, it was much faster than going the long way around.

Whistling happily at the thought of crashing Kaiba's uppity party, he set off down the road at a quick pace, bouncing lively with every step. Oh, he intended to enjoy this holiday a good deal.

Sure enough, the walk through the construction site was quiet and peaceful, and it was still light enough out to make his chosen route easily visible. He laughed softly to himself. What had he been worried for, anyway? The whole place was deserted, anyway!

Murphy's Law couldn't let that one pass without a firm, in-your-face rebuttal. Almost as soon as he'd made that thought, strange voices rang out through the lot.

"Are you _sure_ he said to park here!"

"Yes, I'm sure he said to park here! It says so right on the invitation!"

"Hn. Doesn't seem like a very secure place to leave our ride."

Joey blinked as he ducked behind a towering pile of dirt, leaning in to listen a little more closely. That voice…it almost sounded like _Kaiba_!

"Oh, come on. Who'd be dumb enough to steal—"

"You never know. Now shut up."

The voices began to fade into the distance as, Joey presumed, the people made their way to the fenced-in area where the party was being held. Once he could no longer hear them, he counted backwards from thirty and then continued to make his way. How very odd, to run into other partygoers out here…

No matter. He was getting close now, and making very good time. It would take a while to tunnel under the wall, anyway, and the faster he got there, the sooner he could start.

-----

Yugi and the gang arrived exactly as scheduled, their limousine whispering to a halt at the curb right in front of the entrance to the Kaiba Hall. A velvet carpet stretched from a pair of oak double doors like a long red tongue, and judging by a few footprints matted into the fibers, they were not the first ones to arrive at the party.

Once they were all out of the limo, it pulled away from the curb and back onto the street, presumably to fetch more guests. Smiling and staring at the grandeur, the group made their way down the red carpet and into the pitch-black hall. It was a good thing that the corridor was straight, or else every guest who passed through would be sure to run into the wall; it was so dark that they couldn't see their own hands, even when they were waving a few inches from their faces.

Malik and Yugi were the first to voice their hesitation, but in truth, everyone in the group was more than a little creeped out. "So…how much longer do you think this goes for?" Yugi asked, more to hear the sound of a human voice than to really make conversation.

"I don't know," Ryou answered. "This hallway sure makes an effect, though, huh?"

"Looks like something from a haunted house," Malik grumbled. "Or possibly Scooby Doo."

There was silence for a minute, and then Yami Bakura screamed, "_WHO YOU GONNA CALL!_"

No reply. The tomb robber looked dejected. "I seriously thought someone would answer," he explained, knowing that the other members of the group were glaring at him, even though he couldn't see it.

After what seemed like an hour of walking, just as they were finally getting used to traipsing around in the dark, what looked like a pair of floating green eyes appeared in front of them, blinding them with its unearthly emerald glow.

Yugi screamed, and jumped on Yami.

Malik screamed, and jumped on Ishizu.

Ryou screamed, and jumped on Yami Bakura.

"WHAT is your name!" the owner of the glowing eyes thundered, its voice booming in the empty, dark hall.

Yami blinked. "I don't know."

"WHAT is your quest!" the eyes demanded.

"We seek Kaiba's party," Yami answered calmly.

"WHAT is the capital of Assyria?" the eyes asked, finishing the sentence in a rush.

"Uh, Ashur? Lousy Assyrians, always coming down and invading my empire," Yami grumbled. "Well, I showed them, didn't I? Yes I did. _Yes I did_."

The eyes seemed to consider this a minute. "All right. You may pass." And with that, they snapped out of existence. Just as the gang began to mutter amongst themselves, trying to decide what to do next, two doors swung open and the light at the end of the tunnel was revealed. One by one, they all stepped into the light, blinking rapidly to help their eyes adjust.

The sight that met their eyes was nothing short of stupendous. Kaiba had completely outdone himself, and that alone was really saying something. The entire room was decked in sweet-smelling garlands, punctuated every few feet by a red velvet ribbon; a six-tiered crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling in the midst of the polished hardwood dance floor, and ropes of shimmering crystal looped from the chandelier itself to strategic points high on the walls where they met the ceiling. Dozens of tables littered the carpeted half of the room, and along each wall of the carpeted half there were buffet-style tables positively teeming with food. Of course, Kaiba couldn't throw a party and _not_ have an appearance of some kind by his favorite Duel Monster, and so in the center of each of the buffet tables there sat a three-foot ice sculpture of the Blue Eyes White Dragon. The Christmas tree, twelve feet high, sparkled at the other end of the dance floor, and beneath it—to everyone's excitement—laid mounds and mounds of carefully wrapped presents.

Yami whistled, and said the words that were certainly on everyone's minds:

"Jeez, nice digs."

A few people were already seated, but the ballroom was far from filled; the group could tell that they were among the first to arrive. And with the way Kaiba had things set up, it was quite apparent that many, many more would follow.

Mokuba, resplendent in a white tuxedo with green trim and a red tie, came over to greet them. "Hey, guys! You made it!"

"Yeah!" Yugi replied, smiling happily. "The limo that you sent was a nice touch. Got us here in style, and in no time at all."

The black-haired boy frowned a bit. "Limo? We didn't send any limo."

"But…then how did we—"

Yugi never got to finish his sentence, for at that moment, a man clad in a black jumpsuit with three glowing green eyes calmly escorted an odd-looking pair inside and wished them well.

Ishizu gaped openly. "_Tristan_!"

"Uh…no," the man replied slowly. "My name is…Bob. Bob Smith-Jones."

"Oh. Sorry, uh, Mr. Smith-Jones. I thought you were…someone else," the Egyptian woman apologized, flushing slightly. "A friend of ours."

"I get that a lot. Don't worry about it."

As the man left, Mokuba put in, "That's, uh, Bob. Seto hired him to watch the door. He carded you on the way in, right?"

"I suppose you could say that," Yami answered.

"Great, then you're free to mingle. We've got a _lot_ of people coming, and they're from all over the place. Seto wants this to be the best shindig in the history of the world."

"Hmph. My coronation as pharaoh was pretty good," Yami pouted. "At least, I'm pretty sure it was."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. Like everybody _doesn't_ know your entire history and your real name. Sure."

The pharaoh's jaw dropped. "What you say!"

"Sure, fanbrats on the internet have known it since, like, season one."

"Season…?" Malik repeated.

"Fanbrats?" Ryou added.

"…Internet?" Yami Bakura finished, a confused look on his face.

Mokuba sighed, shaking his head. "Have you guys ever heard that phrase, 'my life is a soap opera'?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I hate to break it to you guys…but our lives are a TV show." Mokuba pointed at Yugi and Yami. "Those guys are the heroes. You all are the supporting cast. Tea's the love interest, Seto's the antihero, and the Heart of the Cards might as well be called the Deus Ex Machina of the Cards. I mean really now, that's just lame. Don't tell me you've never noticed."

Slowly, impossibly slowly, Ryou turned to stare at Yugi. "Do you have _any_ idea what he's talking about?"

"Not a _clue_."

"Mokuba," Yami began carefully, "Maybe you should go sit down. I'm sure you've been very busy all day, and you could use a few minutes of rest…"

"Whatever, guys. Enjoy yourselves at the party, I've got more people to greet." And then, with a flourish that would have made his brother weep a tear of joy, Mokuba turned sharply on his heel and strode back to the door to greet the other guests.

-----

Joey had been digging for a long time.

The hole was gi-normous by now, but he was confident that he was getting pretty close. In fact, every so often he though his shovel hit something metallic, and here and there he had uncovered pieces of curled wrought iron…something. It was probably just part of the wall, though, and didn't worry him at all.

At long last, the tunnel was deep enough that he could crawl inside and start excavating by hand. He was glad he had his overcoat with him—it was messy and gross in there, and the dirt was wet, but the heavy coat kept any of it from getting on his formalwear. And in the end, that was really all that mattered.

Odd…there seemed to be something glowing in front of him…sort of like the surface of a pond, but not exactly, and filmy in—

He fell through the film and landed in outer space.

Well…mostly outer space.

Okay, not really anything like outer space at all.

'Cause, y'know, there was still _air_ and stuff.

But it was very dark.

Like outer space.

Of course, outer space didn't have wooden doors hanging out of nowhere, and there was a wooden door right in front of him. Joey could just barely hear voices inside, and after a minute he realized that they sounded like very, very familiar voices.

In fact, they almost sounded like…

Like…

Joey frowned. Tristan and Kaiba? Well, Kaiba would certainly be at his own party, wouldn't he? This must be the place! Odd choice for a party locale, but still…

Confidently, he put his hand on the knob and twisted.

It was open.

"Hey, Kaiba, surprise! Bet you didn't expect m—" Joey called, shoving the door open and striding inside.

He stopped mid-sentence as a few things became very, very apparent to him.

The first was that he was not standing in a ballroom.

The second was that Tristan and Kaiba were nowhere to be seen.

The third, and arguably the most vital, was that four very startled sets of eyes were fixed upon him.

"Uh…" he began, at a complete loss for words. "This…isn't Kaiba's party."

The tallest, a man in a white suit with holly in his lapel, shook his head and laughed darkly. "I knew this was going to happen. Didn't I tell you to lock the door?"

Another, a redhead, looked annoyed. "Why would anyone bar the outside of a ba—"

"Don't you sass me."

"Well, this is a setback," the youngest, a brunette boy with big blue eyes, commented. "What are we going to do with him?"

"Want me to knife him?" the one in the eyepatch suggested, grinning.

"Ack!" Joey yelled, taking a step backwards. But to his surprise, the door had disappeared, and he was standing in the midst of…infinity…

Where was the door!

"Enough, Farfarello," the white-suited man barked, raising a hand.

"Okay, so let's start from the beginning," the boy said, folding his arms. "Who is this guy, and why did he just walk out of our bathroom?"

-----

"Boy, this is really turning into a great party, huh?" Mokuba remarked, grinning at Tristan, who was hanging casually from the ceiling. "Everybody's here! Did you _see_? I can't believe some of these guys are actually _here_! They're like celebrities!"

"Like Barney Collier? I cannot _believe_ the man actually deigned to _come_ here!" Tristan exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with an almost childlike glee. "I got to shake his hand when he came in the door. What an honor!"

"Yeah. Mission: Impossible was a great show," Mokuba agreed.

The brunette blinked. "Show?"

"Oh, jeez, you too? Never mind. Yeah, the man is a genius. I can't believe he's here."

"So who's _your_ favorite attendee?" Tristan wanted to know.

"Duo!" Mokuba cheered. "He brought Deathscythe too, did you know that? And he said he'd take me for a ride before he left! He's so awesome!"

"Heero's the guy with him, right? The one who looks like Seto?"

"Yup. They arrived in pairs, but all the Gundam pilots are here. Trowa and Quatre snuck off somewhere, I think, and Zechs has been monopolizing the punch table all night."

"Aren't you forgetting one?" Tristan wondered aloud, counting on his fingers. "One, two, three, four…"

"Eh, I can't remember. It's probably that guy nobody cares about."

Someone tapped Mokuba on the shoulder, and when he turned around, he found himself face to face with Wufei Chang, who was holding out a beautifully wrapped present and looking extremely dejected.

"Oh, hey, Wufei," Mokuba said with a smile. "Hey, did you see who tapped me on the shoulder? I didn't turn fast enough."

The Chinese boy looked like he was about to cry. But then, suddenly, Zechs Marquis, the Lightning Count and overall congenial guy, strode over and said, "Excuse me. Wufei, would you mind joining me at the refreshment table? I'm dying for some intelligent conversation, and the peons around here are no help. Philistines, every one of them."

Overjoyed, Wufei handed Mokuba the present he'd been holding and followed Zechs away. Once he was gone, Tristan blinked at Mokuba. "Jeez, what was that all about?"

"Oh, nobody likes Wufei. Zechs is just a nice guy, that's all. Hey, is it just me, or do you hear somebody coming through the Corridor?"

Tristan frowned, listening a moment. "Yeah, and I think I know who it is, too. Hold on a sec." And without further ado, hidden machinery purred to life with a soft whir, and the agent rose out of sight into the shadows.

Mokuba blinked. He'd seen Tristan in action before, and knew what to expect, but still a thought nagged at him:

"Where _does_ he get such wonderful toys!"

The world would never know.

Still, the black-haired boy didn't have long to wait. Tristan soon returned—on foot, amazingly enough—laughing and joking with a group of four men who were positively dressed to kill. Wait a minute…there weren't four, there were five, and the one straggling in the back was—

—_Joey_!

And indeed it was, arriving fashionably late right along with the rest of Schwarz.

Tristan and the redhead, Schuldig, were chattering away like old friends; Crawford was scanning the ballroom, his glasses glinting from the chandelier's light, and Farfarello appeared to have a small felt Christmas tree sewn on the front of his eyepatch. He couldn't see Nagi yet, but Mokuba just assumed that he was in the back with Joey; Crawford would never think of attending a gathering as big as this without his full team.

Sure enough, the young brunette boy soon walked over and nodded at him. "Mokuba."

"Nagi!" Mokuba cheered. "It's so great to see you guys! We haven't played Halo in ages!"

"Yeah," the other agreed, smiling faintly at the thought. "I've got a new pigeon, by the way. His name's Omi. Thinks he's a master hacker, but he's far from all that."

"Great, get him online and we'll take him down!"

"I won't play if your brother does, though," Nagi amended, shaking his head a bit. "Hacking the system is one thing, but having your A.I. do it while you snipe the other players? _Lame_."

"Speaking of which, where _is_ your brother?" Crawford asked politely, polishing his glasses on his shirt. "He mentioned something about a business proposition in his invitation to this gathering."

"Craaaaaaawford!" Schuldig whined. "No _business_ on _Christmas_!"

But before the black-haired man could reply, a waiter passed by with a tray heavily laden with drinks. "Ah, guests! Can I interest you in something to drink this evening?"

"What've ye got?" Farfarello asked, intrigued.

"Punch, champagne, sparkling grape juice, and water, all in eight-ounce glasses."

"Water," he decided.

"Water," Nagi requested, looking up from his discussion with Mokuba.

"What _kind_ of water?" Schuldig inquired, his tone sickeningly sweet.

"Uh…Evian, sir."

"…I'll have champagne."

"And for you, sir?" the waiter asked, glancing at Joey.

"Punch would be fine, thanks."

The waiter handed out the glasses and disappeared into the crowd, and the men sipped their drink of choice as they fanned out through the room. Mokuba and Nagi stayed by the door, but Tristan decided to head to the food table and grab a quick snack before returning to his duties as doorman.

However…something was afoot at the refreshments table.

Or more appropriately, something was _under_ foot at the refreshments table.

Tristan frowned for a minute, silently examining the giant man-sized cardboard box hastily wrapped in shimmering blue wrapping paper with a big white bow on top. Something was off about this present—it _looked_ like one of Seto's, but why was it here, and not beneath the tree?

Operating on a hunch, he turned his head towards the dance floor and watched out of the corner of his eye as the present began to shuffle along the floor. He turned back, and it froze in place.

That slight movement was all he needed.

Laughing out loud, he kicked over the box and cried, "Snake, you made it!"

Solid Snake, Tristan's old roommate at the spy academy, rose to his feet and enveloped his friend in a tight hug. "I was wondering if you'd catch me! Good eye, there."

"Trained by the best, huh? Hey, where's Otacon? He came too, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he tagged along, but he's been following that Maxwell guy around since we got here. Something about autographs and anime conventions," Snake replied. "Eh, whatever. So what's going on?"

"Not much! Just grabbing a bite to eat before I go back to work. My employer would make Scrooge look like Santa Claus, and I'm stuck working security on the front door. Merry Christmas to me, huh?"

"Yeah. Hey, so how've you—"

"_TRISTAN_!" Mokuba yelled from across the room. "Some guys are here from a galaxy far, far away, and they can't find a parking space because the lot is full!"

"Whoops, duty calls," Tristan told Snake with an embarrassed shrug. "We'll catch up later, huh?"

"Yeah, come find me when you get off work," Snake agreed, grabbing a cookie and disappearing beneath his box once again. "It'll be like old times."

And with that, Tristan set off to take care of business once again.

-----

The party had been going on for an hour and a half when Maximillion Pegasus finally made his appearance. He and Croquet had carefully planned their schedules for the day so as to arrive just on the borderline between fashionably late and insultingly late, mostly to cheese Kaiba off. He, of course, would read the time of their appearance as being insultingly late, whereas for the other guests he could claim that he had been delayed with his company's duties and that he was still simply fashionably late.

Of course, he'd spent the whole day in his pajamas watching cartoons and eagerly awaiting the moment when he could start getting ready for the party, instead of actually working, but nobody would know _that_, now would they?

As luck would have it, though, they arrived right behind some squatter who was trying to finagle their way into the party, and were forced to wait in line before getting in the door.

"I'm serious!" the girl exclaimed. "I'm Seto Kaiba's daughter from the future! Shadi sent me back in time to keep an evil group called the Shadows from killing me because I have the soul of a Blue Eyes White Dragon!"

"Yeah, yeah, sure you are. What's your name?" Mokuba demanded, and Pegasus smirked a little at how much he resembled his brother at the moment.

"Alexis Rhodes!"

"And the survey says…_no_! Nice try, 'Mary-Sue', but your name ain't on my guest list and you that means ain't getting in to my party! Sorry, game over, you lose. _Security_!" Mokuba yelled, stabbing a finger at her. In an instant, three muscular bodyguards in tuxedos appeared out of nowhere and grabbed the girl, dragging her kicking and screaming body past Pegasus and Croquet and out the door. "Next!"

They walked forward, and Mokuba's eyes lit up. "Hey, you guys came! About time. Seto was pretty confident you wouldn't show, but I guess you proved him wrong, huh?"

"We were detained by business," Croquet explained calmly.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. I should probably card you to make sure you're not really Alister or something, but hey, tis the season to be naïve and overly trusting, right? Go on in," the boy replied. "Seto's got the place of honor set up for you, Pegasus, at the front table there. Be sure you sit in your assigned spot."

"Oh, an assigned spot! How very quaint."

They proceeded past the doorway and into the ballroom, taking a moment to marvel at the decorations before beginning the perilous task of navigating the dance floor to get to their assigned table. The attempt was far harder than it sounded; masses of people moving every which way, blocking paths that were once open, chattering loudly until the air was full of random bits of conversation:

"Do it again! Do it again!"

"And so then _she_ says, you're drunk! And _I_ said, and madam, you're ugly, but in the morning I'll be sober!"

"No, no, you idiot, not here!"

"Wow, what a great party…"

"Is that…marijuana?"

"Yup. My doctor in Los Angeles prescribed it because of my inability to swallow pills!"

"Goodbye, cruel world! Blow your mind game!"

"I'm a clown! I'm a clown!"

"Shut up!"

"Hey, watch it. I know karate and several other Japanese terms!"

But at long last, they made it, and Pegasus had just seated himself when the entire back wall exploded.

Croquet, his reflexes being just slightly faster than his employer's, was under the table in an instant. Pegasus took only a fraction of a second longer, and the two of them huddled beneath the banquet table as pieces of flaming debris tumbled around them. What was going on? Had the Pastel Mafia finally made their decisive move!

The first thing Pegasus noticed, once the smoke began to clear, was the large red X painted on the ground beneath his chair.

The second thing he noticed was the complete lack of any other place settings at this particular banquet table.

And the third—and arguably the most important—thing he noticed was the blinding flash of a high-powered camera, capturing his huddled state on film for all eternity, and the familiar sound of Seto Kaiba's laughter.

Fuming, he pulled himself from under the table and dusted his coat off. "Kaiba-boy. How good of you to show up to your _own party_," he said, with as much dignity as he could muster.

But Seto, standing amidst the wreckage of the wall he had just destroyed with a remote-detonated mine, was laughing far too hard to reply.

-----

The party was mostly uneventful after that, and soon it was time for the party guests to bid each other a regretful farewell before returning to their respective dimensions via the C-5 Corridor, each with a bag of presents in tow.

Seto had given everyone a large sack of money wrapped in an elegant gift box, and had thoughtfully included in each package an early invitation to _next_ year's party. So everyone was merry and gay as they wearily proceeded towards their individual homes. Tristan and Mokuba made sure everyone made it home all right, and soon it was just them, Yugi's group, Joey, Pegasus, and Seto left behind. Croquet went to fetch the car while the others said their farewells.

"Bye, everyone," Seto called, waving as the guests left. "Happy sack of money—I mean, Christmas!"

Yugi yawned. "What a nice party this was."

Yami Bakura's eyes twinkled. "What a nice sack of money this is—I mean, yeah, what a great party."

"I'm actually kind of sorry you were the host this year," Yami commented to Seto, offering a friendly smile. "We didn't get to hang out nearly as much as we did last year."

"Eh, there will be other parties. Besides, it was worth missing a lot of it just to see the look on Pegasus's face when I blew through the wall. Priceless, I tell you."

"Totally."

Mokuba grinned at Joey. "Hey, I'm glad you came even though your ticket got lost in the mail. Showing up with Schwarz was a great idea. How'd you do it?"

Joey blinked. "Uh…I'm just that good."

"Yeah, yeah."

One by one, they all trickled out, and just before Pegasus left, Seto caught him by the arm. "Wait a minute, Pegasus. I've got one more gift for you."

"Oh?"

"Yup." Seto reached into his pocket and produced a pale blue envelope wrapped with red ribbon, handing it to Pegasus. "Merry Christmas."

Pegasus blinked. What was it with Kaiba and pale blue envelopes, anyway? Could it be that he was actually a secret operative for the Pastel Mafia? Did this envelope mean certain doom!

Curiosity eventually won out over caution, and after excusing himself for a quick bathroom break, Pegasus opened the envelope and peeked inside.

He frowned. It was just a harmless piece of paper. "What is this?" he wondered aloud.

Seto's eyes gleamed as Pegasus looked at it a little more closely. "This is…a share of Industrial Illusions?"

"The fifty-first share," the brunette explained with a wicked grin on his face. "I got a little bored this morning and decided to buy out your company, just for fun. You really _should_ keep a closer eye on your stocks, even when you _are_ sitting around in your pajamas watching cartoons."

"W-What! But how did you—how could you have—my stocks are—_KAIBA_!" Pegasus nearly howled, almost incoherent with rage. "_I'll get you for this_!"

"I'm sure you'll try, Pegasus!" Seto replied, nearly doubled over with hysterical laughter. "Something to look forward to for next year!"

-----

As always, if you enjoyed it, please leave me a review. Merry Christmas!


End file.
